Lord of Darkness (Maiden Lane #5)(8)

Godric descended the stairs to the lower level. Normally he broke his fast at a coffeehouse, both to hear the latest news and because the meals at his own home were somewhat erratic. Today, however, he squared his shoulders and ventured into the little-used dining room at the back of the house.

Only to find it occupied.

“Sarah.”

For a disconcerting second, he hadn’t recognized her, this self-possessed lady, dressed in a sedate dove-gray costume. How many years had it been since he’d last seen her?

She turned at her name, and her calm face lit with a smile of welcome. His chest warmed and it caught him off guard. They’d never been close—he was a full dozen years older than she—and he’d not even known that he’d missed her.

Apparently he had.

“Godric!”

She rose, moving around the long, battered table where she’d been seated alone. She hugged him, swift and hard, her touch a shock to his frame. He’d been in solitude so very long.

She moved back before he could remember to respond and eyed him with disconcertingly perceptive brown eyes. “How are you?”

“Fine.” He shrugged and turned away. After nearly three years, he was used to the concerned looks, the gentle inquiries, especially from women. Sadly, though, he hadn’t become any more comfortable with them. “Have you already eaten?”

“As of yet, I haven’t seen anything to eat,” she observed drily. “Your man, Moulder, promised me breakfast and then disappeared. That was nearly half an hour ago.”

“Ah.” He wished he could feign surprise, but the fact was he wasn’t even sure there was anything edible in the house. “Er … perhaps we should decamp to an inn or—”

Moulder burst through the door, carrying a heavy tray. “Here we are, then.”

He thumped the tray down in the center of the table and stepped back in pride.

Godric examined the tray. A teapot stood in the center with one cup. Beside it were a half-dozen or so burned pieces of toast, a pot of butter, and five eggs on a plate. Hopefully they’d been boiled.

Godric arched an eyebrow at his manservant. “Cook is … er … indisposed, I perceive.”

Moulder snorted. “Cook is gone. And so is that nice wheel o’ cheese, the silver saltcellar, and half the plate. Didn’t seem too happy when he heard last night that we had so many guests.”

“Just as well, I’m afraid, considering the unfortunate way he handled a joint.”

“He was overfamiliar with your wine stock, too, if you don’t mind me saying so, sir,” Moulder said. “I’ll go see if we have any more teacups, shall I?”

“Thank you, Moulder.” Godric waited until the butler left the room before turning to his sister. “I apologize for the paucity of my table.”

He held out a chair for her.

“Please don’t worry,” Sarah said as she sat. “We did descend on you without any notice.”

She reached for the teapot.

“Mmm,” Godric murmured as he lowered himself to a chair across from her. “I wondered about that.”

“I was under the impression that Megs had written to you.” His sister lifted an eyebrow at him.

He merely shook his head as he took a piece of toast.

“I wonder why she didn’t tell you of our arrival?” she asked softly as she buttered her own toast. “We’d planned the trip for weeks. Do you think she was fearful that you’d turn her away?”

He nearly choked on his toast. “I wouldn’t do that. Whatever gave you the notion?”

She shrugged elegant shoulders. “You’ve been separated since your marriage. You hardly write her or me. Or, for that matter, Mama, Charlotte, or Jane.”

Godric’s lips firmed. He was on cordial terms with his stepmother and younger half sisters, but they’d never been especially close. “Ours wasn’t a love match.”

“Obviously.” Sarah took a cautious nibble of her toast. “Mama worries for you, you know. As do I.”

He poured her tea without answering. What could he say? Oh, I’m all right. Lost the love of my life, don’t you know, but the pain’s quite bearable, considering. To pretend that he was whole, that rising every day wasn’t a chore, became exhausting. Why did they ask, anyway? Couldn’t they see that he was so broken nothing would fix him?

“Godric?” Her voice was gentle.

He made the corners of his mouth twitch upward as he pushed the cup of tea across the table to her. “How are my stepmother and sisters?”

She pursed her lips as if she wanted to prod him more, but in the end she took a sip of tea instead. “Mama is well. She’s in the midst of preparations for Jane’s coming-out. They plan to stay with Mama’s bosom-bow, Lady Hartford, for the season in the fall.”

“Ah.” Godric felt a twinge of relief that his stepmother didn’t want to stay at Saint House. Guilt followed immediately thereafter: he should’ve been aware that his youngest half sister was old enough to make her debut into society. Gads! He remembered Jane as a freckle-faced schoolgirl running about with a hoop and stick. “And how is Charlotte?”

Sarah cast her eyes heavenward. “Fascinating all the young men of Upper Hornsfield.”

“Are there many eligible young men in Upper Hornsfield?”